


Ought to Learn a Lesson.

by Traitorthief



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Torture, Blood kink ?, Body kink ?, Bullet wound, Carving initials, Chains, Drugs, Emotional Hurt, Gunplay, Gunshot Wounds, Heavy Angst, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, M/M, Rafe feels betrayed, Rafe loves touching Sam, Restraints, Somewhat canon plot, They're both hurting, happy ending ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-12-02 02:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traitorthief/pseuds/Traitorthief
Summary: Where Sam betrays Rafe as soon as they find the second St. Dismas cross together, but Rafe gets his sweet revenge.





	Ought to Learn a Lesson.

**Author's Note:**

> Requested Rafe/Sam!

It wasn’t like he was stalking Sam, or anything of the sorts. Okay, perhaps he was, but how could he not do so? The damn bastard stole his cross earlier that day and thought he could ditch him to flee off to his stupid little brother.

Rafe wasn’t that stupid. He knew what Sam was up to; pulling the Houdini on him just to be able to go back to Nathan. He had been stupid enough to fall for it too, letting Sam spend the nights in his mansion just outside the city, providing him money and such to go about his own living. Then the fucker leaves him in the dust like this, so selfishly.

He’d get him back for what he did. He had put a tracker with GPS system on Sam’s jacket for a fair good reason. He had never noticed it, probably because he slipped it on when Sam wasn’t around. It wasn’t as if he didn’t trust Sam, but- a Drake is still a Drake.

Now he stood, coat pulled over his shoulders, quivering from the cold as he followed the GPS to Sam’s location. He could’ve just taken his car, but he might as well burn some calories while he’s at it.

His remote blared, and he snapped his head to the side, staring out across the street. The only light he received was from the street lights, who shone dimly above his head. The house, or apartment had to be nearby, if he could trust his tracking system.

He stepped up on a porch, curiously staring up at the building he had arrived at, tucking the remote into his pocket, hiding it in there. In his right pocket rested a syringe filled with ambien, a drug he had managed to pick up from the black market, sold for people with insomnia.

Of course, he had studied on the side effects of said drug. And he had managed to liquefy his pills to inject them in a much more lethal manner. This wasn’t a nice game anymore, it’s as if he genuinely wanted Sam to suffer. Drugging your former companion with heavy sleeping pills- was it really a smart idea? Perhaps not.

Knocking at the door, he stepped back, patiently waiting for a reply from the other side, which he eventually got. The door lazily flicked open, revealing a dishevelled Sam, who was shirtless and dressed in the most loose sweatpants you could ever imagine. He looked like he had just woken up, groggy and grumpy, rubbing through his left eye.

“Mhh.. Rafe?” He blinked, frowning a little, looking as if he was about to shut the door on him.

Rafe grasped for the syringe in his pocket, throwing himself at Sam, knocking the larger male inside the apartment. The wind roared and shut the door behind them, hiding Rafe’s actions from whoever would be passing the sidewalk.

Lifting his arm, he jabbed the needle of the syringe into Sam’s neck, injecting him with the sleeping aid. The Drake struggled and groaned at the sudden attack, only stiffening up more when a sharp needle broke through his skin, and his groggy feeling slowly started to increase. All Rafe had to do is back up and wait for Sam to collapse due to tiredness, or if it took too long, he’d just speed up the process with his hands.

Samuel stumbled left and right, catching himself on the armrest of the couch, wheezing. Rafe’s eyes flashed mischievously, but with an awful dark gleam in them.

“Doesn’t feel nice, now does it, Samuel?” He tossed the syringe down onto the floor, listening to his former acquaintance as he croaked out unintelligible and hoarse words, getting slurred and weak. He hung over the armrest, and Rafe lightly kicked against his calves, seeing if it sparked some life into him. Samuel barely reacted, whining something as Rafe pulled him off the couch, firmly holding onto his wrists.

“Fuck, I forgot how heavy you are.” He growled out to himself, looking up to see if he could spot car keys somewhere. Sadly, to no prevail, and he came to the conclusion that he’d just have to drag Sam outside and back to his mansion.

He groaned, dragging Sam out through the front door of his apartment, along the snowy and rainy sidewalk, covering his shirtless torso in mud and bruises. Rafe really couldn’t care less; the man would have to endure far worse than this anyway. Might as well warm him up just a little bit.

The wind didn’t exactly help either, blowing hard against his back, and Sam’s awfully heavy body. It was hard and painful enough to drag him like this, let alone if you had heavy winds turning against you.

As soon as he reached the gate to his garden, he dropped Sam’s wrists, crooning out something about having a crooked back from all this bending and dragging, complaining to himself about the situation. He unlocked the gate, and pulled Samuel inside, along the grass of his garden, to the back door of his mansion, which he slid open. Dropping his motionless body on the clean floor, he closed the door back up, greeted by happy squeaks.

Two ferrets came running up to him and Sam, pouncing and prodding at the man’s body. Rafe shooed them away with his hands, the two little creatures bolting up the stairs with loud noises of discomfort.

Sighing, Rafe wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist, lifting him up the furthest he could, throwing him over his shoulder. Carrying the unconscious man down the stairs to the basement, he flicked on the light, dragging Sam to the chains attached to the wall. He slipped the man into the restraints, both wrists and ankles tied to the cuffs. He smirked at the sight, Sam hanging limp in his restraints was not something he thought would _arouse _him, but here he was, feeling that exact feeling.

Now he had to play the waiting game, which he wasn’t exactly good at. Sitting down at a chair near the corner of the room, he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back as he waited, somewhat patient. He had to be if he wanted this to be fun and entertaining for both parties.

He couldn’t wait to see Nathan’s face when he figured out his brother had been kidnapped by him for the sake of betrayal. Rafe wasn’t one to necessarily get mad about it, it was simply the fact he had cared so _dearly _about Sam, and he just left like that, with the cross they had stolen together. _Together_.

Lifting his head up at the sound of soft grumbling, Rafe jerked happily in his seat seeing Sam’s gorgeous hazel eyes open and flutter, scanning his environment to see where he was. The look in his eyes was amusing to watch, the sight of the bitter fear in his brown orbs was lovely.

“Missed me, Samuel?” He got to his feet, spreading his arms out. Sam trembled against the restraints, tugging at them with fear.

Rafe smirked with joy, trailing his pale hand up Sam’s chest, index finger and thumb grabbing hold of his chin, forcing him to look down. “You did this to yourself. I only wanted to protect you.. We were a team, going after Avery’s treasure together.. But you just had to pick that son of a bitch, didn’t you? Wasn’t I good enough?” He snarled, nails digging into his chin.

“What are you talking about..?” Sam wheezed out, looking so innocent and yet so attractively _delicious_.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Rafe scowled out, letting go of the man’s chin, and instead moved his hand down back to his chest, nails dragging along the skin. Samuel seemed to groan, trying to struggle or shift. The restraints pulled him back, clanging against the wall dramatically.

“We had this together.. Getting that cross, just the two of us. I even paid for your time in jail just so we could continue. So you could be free. But you just had to pick Nathan instead, didn’t you? Tell me, what did I ever do wrong? I gave you money, shelter, food, love, yet still..” He balled his fist, before reaching into his back pocket, pulling out a pistol.

“You’re going to wish that you stayed with me, Sam. I’ll make you regret everything you did.”

To this, Sam’s eyes widened, and he pulled hard at the chains, breathing ragged. “I didn’t mean-“

A barrel against his chest made him fall silent, and he stared down in fear as Rafe dragged his pistol up and down his bare chest, teasing him. I mean, Rafe had tried to drag his gun up his body plenty of times before this, but all those times it had just felt nice and playful. This was the exact fucking opposite of nice. He felt like he was about to piss his pants.

Rafe smirked with amusement, loading the gun with a deep, rattling click, making goosebumps rise on Sam’s skin. Shuddering, he jerked his head away, not allowing himself to even look at the smaller man before his eyes, that damned Adler.. If he were to die today, he would haunt his entire family in the afterlife, that’s for sure.

With a sudden jerk, Rafe had his gun up against Sam’s collarbone, and pulled the trigger with a loud bang.

Samuel screamed out in agony as the bullet broke through skin, grazing his bone and piercing right through muscle. Blood seeped down his bare chest, and he limped against his restraints, eyes puffed and red, face pale.

The feeling of warm hands gripping at his sides made him whine and groan, throwing his head back against the wall.

Rafe intently caressed the man’s hips and sides, tongue lolling out, beginning to drag up the stream of blood on his torso, licking it up. Sam winced, unsure whether to be disgusted or aroused because of Rafe’s awfully odd licking. He croaked out a moan of pain, hands trembling in the cuffs.

Blinking, Rafe backed off, walking to his desk and sinking down to reach into a low drawer. He pulled out a tiny black pocket knife, that had a golden handle. He twisted it around in his grasp, before smiling, jumping to his feet. With a turn on his heel, he was facing Samuel again, and approached, pressing the flat side of the blade against the bullet wound.

“Feeling any regrets yet?” He snapped out, and when he got no reply, he simply figured that he had already left a good impression on his captive to not try anything like this again.

He pressed the tip into the wound, making Sam stiffen up and softly cry out, Rafe slowly retreating the knife. Instead, he moved it down to his abdomen, by the three other bullet wounds from the prison escape. In between them, he carved a ‘R’, to claim the man as his property. Property of Rafe Adler.

“Do you promise me that you’ll never do this again, Samuel?” He asked, swaying the knife around, tone serious and intimidating. Sam nodded desperately, losing quite a bit of blood, which he obviously didn’t mention. He knew better than to upset Rafe again.

The man huffed, reaching into a cabinet, where he pulled out a first aid kit. He first used tweezers to remove the bullet, disinfecting it before bandaging it up, wrapping it around his shoulder and through under his armpit.

For the carving, the just used some alcohol to clean the blood and the wound, putting a large bandaid patch on the letter so if it bled again, it wouldn’t seep through his clothes.

With a hesitant glare, he reached up, clicking the cuffs open around his wrists, as well as his ankles. Sam fell down, Rafe being just in time to catch him. He was surprised when Samuel actually tried to cling to him, not having expected him to be so touchy after what he just did to him. But he wasn’t complaining.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Rafe..” He moaned out, clearly in distress and pain. Rafe shushed him.

“Sam… Jesus fuck.” He rubbed his temple, holding the Drake with his other arm. As much as he wanted to kiss and hold him so dearly, he knew he shouldn’t. Not yet.

Guiding Sam back up the stairs, he took him through the mansion, to his luxurious bedroom, where he helped Sam lay down, tucking him in under the expensive sheets.

As much as he knew that Sam was in pain, for some reason the man looked so content under the silk covers, immediately drifting off to what Rafe hoped was a better world than the one they lived in. Somewhere, he truly believed that him and Sam would pick their relationship back up. Now that he had marked him, people would see he was his, and only his. And he wasn’t too keen on sharing.

He just hoped Nathan wouldn’t kick his ass for kidnapping his brother.


End file.
